


Lifted

by wickedthoughts



Series: Hearts of Darkness, Hearts of Gold [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Healing, Blood, Broken Bones, Castration, Demon Dean, Gore, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Mark of Cain, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Sequel, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedthoughts/pseuds/wickedthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is in awe of Sam Winchester. In spite of everything, Sam still thinks Dean can be saved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifted

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to [His Place](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5456552). If you liked that one because of the dark, hopeless ending then this story might not be for you. I just needed to build Sam back up a little, for my own edification.
> 
> Read the warnings, this is still pretty dark.

* * *

Castiel found them in the remains of _The Flamingo Bar._ Dean was crouched over Sam, softening cock still ensheathed inside his little brother as he regained his faculties. Sam was shaking and whimpering, the movements and sounds becoming weaker as his blood poured out from between his legs. The angel processed everything in the blink of an eye. The blood, the vomit, Sam’s severed testicles, the end of the rape he’d been too late to prevent. Disgust and horror twisted his face.

Sam had underestimated the demon, had refused to see him as anything other than his big brother. The fading remnants of demon blood that Castiel could sense in his system, that Castiel had pleaded with Sam not to drink, were not nearly enough to defeat a Knight of Hell. Sam had held back, had tried to reach the demon with reason and love.

Castiel would not make the same mistake. What he saw in front of him shook the last hesitations from his mind. The monster who had done this to Sam was not the man he knew, couldn’t possibly be his friend. This was not Dean.

The angel moved swiftly and silently, wrenching the demon off of Sam. Adina’s stolen grace glowed brightly behind his human eyes, and though he mourned her death, and despised Crowley, he had a moment of gratitude to the King of Hell for forcing his sister’s grace down his throat. It would be put to good use here.

The demon was completely surprised as Castiel pulled him to his feet, whirling him around to face him. _Not Dean,_ Castiel had to remind himself one more time. The demon made it easier, crystal green eyes turning black when he registered the divine creature before him. He snarled, a guttural, animalistic sound in the back of his throat. He was covered in blood- Sam’s blood- from his head to his half-hard cock sticking out through the fly of his jeans.

_Not Dean._

A Knight of Hell was a powerful opponent, even for a seraph, and especially for a weakened seraph running on borrowed grace. But the demon was temporarily impaired from the aftereffects of his recent activity, not to mention his shock at Castiel’s unexpected appearance. The demon’s Marked arm moved to his belt, hand fumbling for the powerful Blade there, and Castiel hit him in the face with all of his considerable strength. The demon fell heavily, out cold, on top of Sam. The younger Winchester was too far gone to protest or even notice beyond a tremor that ran over his skin.

Castiel moved quickly, using Sam’s blood to construct a Devil’s Trap on the dirty floor and depositing the demon unceremoniously in the center of it. He didn’t know how long the demon would remain unconscious, and he didn’t want to take any chances. Every angelic instinct inside him screamed at him to kill the demon. He knew that was right. He should smite this monster, especially after what it had just done to Sam, but for all his chanting of _Not Dean,_ he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. It _was_ Dean, or his body and twisted soul anyway, and Sam had been convinced he could cure his brother of demonhood. There was still a chance-

He’d let Sam decide, Castiel abruptly made up his mind. Sam was the most hopeful, forgiving person he knew. If, even after this, Sam wanted to save his brother, was convinced there was still a chance, that would be good enough for the angel.

He knelt at Sam’s head. Sam was lying on his stomach, head turned to the side, blood and come leaking from his ass to join the larger pool from the sinister wound between his legs. Grief clawed at Castiel’s heart as he took in the full extent of the damage done to Sam. He could heal the man physically, but there was no way to mitigate the mental trauma he’d endured. Not without erasing his memories, and Castiel had sworn never to do that again.

He placed his right hand on Sam’s pale cheek, feeling the thready pulse humming inside. Sam didn’t have much longer. Castiel focused all of his power on healing Sam. This would deplete him, but he didn’t care. He should have been here. If he’d been here this never would have happened.

Grace flowed through his fingers. Grace replenished the blood Sam had lost, mended his ribs, ankle, and the older arm injury Castiel blamed himself for. Grace regrew the organs that had been brutally taken from him. Grace healed the damage to his anus and mopped up the blood and filth covering and surrounding him. Castiel used more grace than he knew was wise, but when he was finished Sam Winchester was whole and spotless. No trace of his ordeal survived Castiel’s cleanse. The only spilled blood that remained was the blood that comprised the Devil’s Trap keeping the still unconscious demon restrained.

“Sam,” Castiel removed his palm from Sam’s cheek, panting heavily with exertion. “Sam?”

Sam’s eyes fluttered open as he inhaled loudly. He blinked and coughed, confusion dancing over his features.

“Cas? What- ?”

His eyes widened in horrified recollection and he sat up in a panicked frenzy with a small cry of disbelief. His gaze roamed wildly, taking in the unconscious demon entrapped in the bloody sigil. His legs flexed and fought against the jeans bunched around his knees and, after discarding of the now unnecessary arm sling, he frantically groped between his legs with both hands. When he found himself all there, his eyes closed and he moaned in relief. He held himself, gently rolling his balls between his fingers as he shuddered. Castiel reached out to put a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, but thought better of it at the last moment. The angel remained on his knees, waiting for Sam to come back to himself. Eventually Sam’s eyes opened and he looked at Castiel.

“Oh god, Cas,” he choked out. “Oh god. Oh fuck, he- he- ”

To Castiel’s surprise, Sam leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and burying his face in his chest. He didn’t cry or make a sound, but he clutched at the angel’s back, handfuls of Castiel’s trench coat in his shaking fists. At first Castiel stiffened reflexively, his arms pinned at his sides, until he remembered what Sam had said to him a few months ago, that day they had really bonded in the Men of Letter’s infirmary. _Now’s the part where you hug back._

“I know, Sam,” Castiel moved his hands up slowly, holding Sam’s trembling body tightly. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

They sat there for several minutes until Sam stopped shaking. He sat back, clumsily pulling his jeans and boxers back over his hips. He looked at the insensate demon pretending to be Dean again, then back to Castiel. His eyes were wide, afraid, but determined.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Sam.”

“No, seriously, Cas, thank you. For- for saving me, and for not killing him.”

Castiel was awestruck at the depth of Sam’s devotion to his brother. As he’d been awestruck by Dean- the real Dean- and his devotion to Sam in the past. That devotion that he craved from his own family, but had never received. The devotion that had ultimately made him turn his back on Heaven and choose the broken little family he was now a part of. He asked his next question carefully, dreading the answer and what it would mean for their broken little family.

“You still think you can reach him? Cure him? After what he just did to you?”

“Yes.”

Sam had decided, and Castiel was relieved. Relieved, and terrified of what would come next.

“Sam Winchester, you amaze me,” Castiel spoke with admiration. Sam’s jaw clenched and he looked down as if he were biting back an argument. “If you believe Dean can still be saved, then who am I to doubt it?”

“I don’t- I’m not- ” Sam bit his bottom lip, still looking at the floor. “I don’t think I can do it alone. Will you help me?”

He looked up at Castiel then, imploring the angel with his eyes.

“Of course, Sam.”

Castiel’s stolen grace was drained, and he had doubts that Dean could be cured, but at that moment he would follow Sam anywhere. To have that level of belief and devotion, he missed it. He wanted it back. He would try to believe again, in this family that should have been torn asunder by what had just occurred.

“Of course.”


End file.
